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I.C.A.D. Day 19 — Snow Globe

June 19, 2015
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In the Spring of 1973 I was full of myself, and full of beans as well. (Not much evolvement on either of those fronts has been made.) I was a student at Glendale Community College and my pal Evan Bishop was that year’s editor of its literary magazine, The Traveler. Evan let me inflict my then-meager illustrative talent on the magazine, and I can only hope that not many copies of that misbegotten edition are floating around still. But one drawing, an illustration for a poem about a melting snowman, did have a crude charm. The lady who wrote the poem was happy enough to say, “THAT’S my Snowman!” So I feel as though I achieved some modest success with illustration, even forty-odd years ago.

Today the phrase “snow globe” evoked memories of that snowman, so I brought him back.

oaf or the rainbone

November 25, 2013
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this road is quail run
its nearness and parallelitude to mighty mingus mountain is here evinced

the ridge of mingus has been powder-sugared by flurried snow
and is hugged by the fleece of post-precipitative cloud

the cloud once turgid is now a mere bone of its erstwhile self
and i an oaf with a megapixel-challenged phone camera do not do it justice

but it the rainbone insouciantly hugs and floats on
and given a choice i’d take a moment to be it
rather than a practicing oaf

EVERY Water WHERE

April 9, 2013
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Here are the words to the triple acrostic:

Eco-logic tells us we owe Life to melt & flow
Vessels for libations are best fill’d with aitch-two-oh
Each & every droplet put in free fall is a sphere
Raise the temp to have a steamy scene with one held dear
Yet when iced it turns a thirst to Gratitude sincere

And above all that, and below “Snow cone” and “Fog bound” and “Rain man” and “Cloud Nine” and “Hail bop” and “Ice scream,” in tiny letters, I wrote “NOT PICTURED: AL SLEET, THE HIPPY DIPPY WEATHERMAN.” This is, of course, a tip of the hat to the late, great, lamented GEORGE CARLIN, whose spaced-out meteorologist once caused Johnny Carson to nearly laugh himself out of his chair. That clip is easily findable on YouTube, and if you haven’t seen it, and need a good belly laugh, please check it out!

Snow Fall, or I Fall for Snow

February 10, 2013
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Saturday morning our Village of Oak Creek was fabricked with the satin of joined snowflakes. I have not seen snow falling all that many times in my life–spending most of my life in the Valley of the Sun, I was 21 years old the first time I saw snow falling–so it is new enough to me to seem miraculous.

I owe my knowledge of the word (or words) Uffda (or Uff Da) to my sweet former wife, a small-town gal from Minnesota. During our 23 years of marriage, which ended a year ago last December, I also learned to say “come here once” instead of “come here, please” and “well, you’re welcome” instead of “you’re welcome.” Uffda usually follows some kind of accident (like dropping the fried egg on the floor) or burdensomeness (like working a double shift)–at least that was my inference. I am not bilingual in Minnesotan; but I often say “Uffda” just after getting my old bones off the couch after sitting there for more than an hour. Comes in handy, and trips off the tongue!,